


The Best Therapy

by Kiwikisses



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Creampie, F/M, Recreational Drug Use, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29367876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiwikisses/pseuds/Kiwikisses
Summary: After this long work week you just need to let loose. You're dragged to the club by your friends and a night of drinking and dancing, somehow ends up with you and your long time best friend in bed together. After years of sexual tension, the time has come to finally give in.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 82





	The Best Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the song Memories by David Guetta feat Kid Cudi. It sets the club tone perfectly, so give it a listen if you wanna catch the vibes I was trying to set.

You never stopped crossing paths. It felt as though your fate strings were tied together in the center, glimmering with want and yearning. It was a constant push and pull, ebb and flow. A braided desire leading to this very moment. This instance that has finally popped the taut bubble that securely enveloped the two of you. The frantic lust pouring out in waves, flowing freely into the atmosphere. 

The taste of tequila was decorating your tongue, the familiar burn gliding down your throat to the pit of your stomach. The club was loud, too loud. Screaming over the music to tell your friends you were going to the dancefloor with or without them. The tingling started in your toes and fingertips, edible kicking in, making your movements feel weightless. The urge to dance was strong. For once the music was good, a beautiful blend of synth pop and popular reggaeton vibrating the dancefloor, beat pumping through the soles of your sneakers. 

You didn’t have time to change before Shoyo texted you saying they were picking you up for celebratory drinks after their big win. Your work day was long, and while this wasn’t your preferred way to end a rigorous week it was well needed, and well deserved. It was also difficult to refuse the request since, soon enough, there was harsh knocking at your door before you could type out a reply. 

So here you were, a complimentary brownie handmade from Osamu’s gorgeously talented hands finally digested. The three shots you’d taken with the team finally settling into your limbs, body moving faster than your brain could keep up with. 

“I’m gonna go dance,” you shout to Shoyo, pulling his arm so that his ear is level with your mouth. He grins at you, says something about waiting for some other people to show up, but to go have fun. You let go of his forearm after he gives you a fleeting thumbs up and you make your way to the dancefloor. 

The bass is even better from down here, your friends were in a booth in a dimly lit corner of the club, while the center was illuminated with multicolored lights drowning everyone in pools of reds, blues, purples, pinks, greens. A rainbow of people grinding and swaying on each other not giving a single fuck of what they looked like or how their body was responding to the music pounding in your ear drums. A small smile grew on your face as you stepped into the sea of moving bodies, remembering that the dreamy fluidity of the substances was controlling your system, melting you into the crowd seamlessly. 

You don’t remember how long you were dancing for, how many songs passed, just the flurry of hands from your various dance partners, the smell of sweat and alcohol palpable in the air. Your mind succumbing to the easy haze of your environment when you feel the familiar tension of being watched. Your gaze travelling through the crowd around you, eyes having difficulty adjusting to the various lights, straining to find that familiarity. Your eyes land on the booth your friends occupied, except he’s there now. Smug grin tugging the corner of his mouth as you lock onto him.

Your body reacts before you can process anything. A cheeky grin of your own replies to his. You lift your hand, pretending you’re about to wave to him before you flick your wrist around, effectively flipping him off. He laughs in return, body straightening from his previous position leaning against the edge of the seat, hands stuffed into his jean pockets. His face relaxes back into that cocky smirk, hair falling over his eyes after he shook his head at you, feigning disbelief. 

You continue to sway your hips, this time a bit more intentionally, now fully aware that you have an audience. Your hands slide up your waist provocatively, fingers meeting themselves at the nape of your neck before your arms are above your head, swinging gently with the beat. Your eyes are now closed, full attention on the feeling of you surging to the peak of your high, cheeks growing hot, sweat trickling down your temples. You’ve once again lost yourself in the seductive pull of the people around you before you feel large hands at your waist. You don’t react, long since losing count of the people you’ve grinded against. But in the back of your head, knocking dully is the blaring warning that this one is different. The heat between the two of you is thick with a desire you hadn’t felt with anyone else. 

The hands at your waist spinning you abruptly, forcing a gasp to leave your mouth, your hands finding your partner’s biceps to keep from stumbling backwards. He’s chuckling at your reaction, too aware of the effects he has on you. 

“Tooru,” your breathless, his name hanging firmly in the space between you as you glance down at where your bodies are touching before sliding upwards to connect your gaze with his. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the giggle bubbling up your throat at bay, unsuccessful in your attempts as he starts moving your body with his. The song changes to something more upbeat, making you jump slightly on the balls of your feet from side to side, eliciting a chuckle from Oikawa, taking some pleasure in your playful behavior. 

Your movements continue like this until the beat drop when he lets go of your waist, arms straightening out at your sides as he moves down your body, bouncing graciously until his bottom meets the heels of his feet. Your hips keep moving while he’s now face to face with your lower belly, hands moving to cup the backs of your thighs. Your upper half leans down, wrapping your right hand gently around his neck, thumb and forefinger framing his perfectly structured jaw as you sing the lyrics out to him. The look he gives you is darker than usual, a ferality flashing through them quickly before they glaze over when he notices how close your lips are. 

You teasingly brush your lips against his, playing it off as an accident when you pull away ever so slightly. Your left hand meets his shoulder to keep the both of you from tipping over when suddenly his lips are flush against yours. The taste of salt and tequila bursting on your tongue. His arms wrap around your torso tightly, helping him up from his crouched position. When your mind decides to join the party you can’t help but laugh into the kiss. Your giggles rubbing off on him as the vibrations from his laughs collide with yours. You pull away to stare at him, smile unwavering as you tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“C’mon,” he says into your ear before pulling away and hooking your hands together, dragging you off the dancefloor. You allow yourself to be pulled into his orbit, spinning around like a moon hopelessly stuck in his gravitational field. The realization that you’re blindly following him disrupts your trance, recognizing that your submissiveness is only fueling his already well-fed ego, so you stop, his arm tugging towards you with the suddenness of your action. 

He turns to face you, confusion clear across his features. He quirks his eyebrow in question, curious as to why you stopped walking. “Why should I?” The sass coats your tone, defiance delicately weaving between you. A smirk is his only response before he tugs you towards him causing you to lose balance as he wraps one arm around your waist, the other meeting the back of your thigh again, hoisting you up so that you're hanging partially over his shoulders. Your world tilts slightly, dizziness overcoming your senses, the weed making your head feel like it's floating away as you grip his shoulder to move a bit more upright, glaring at him but he only sends you a sleazy smile, your body flushing at the close proximity before you break into a fit of giggles again at his expression. His grip tightening as he starts to lead you to the exit, chuckling along with you the whole way.

“Wait, what about my stuff? It’s still at the booth,” each word is accompanied with a hiccup as your abdomen folds into his shoulder with each of his steps.

He turns to head to the booth, your hair whipping with him, some strands getting caught in your lip gloss. Iwaizumi is seated there speaking casually with Osamu when he notices Oikawa reach down next to him to grab your phone which is attached to your key ring. Iwaizumi side eyes the two of you as Oikawa sends him a wink and turns around. You shift with his movements and realize that he didn’t grab your purse. 

“You forgot to grab my purse!”

“I can have Iwa take care of that,” he responds refusing to turn back around. “Don’t worry, trust me,” his smile widening, decreasing your trust in him exponentially, but the state you're in causes your rebuttal to die in your chest as you look back into the club, eyes staring straight into Shoyo’s. He sends you a knowing grin before he mouths a slurred, have fun, delighted in the eye roll you give him as you mouth back a shameless I will. 

The car ride was littered with pit stops. Munchies finally kick in letting him know that you’re starving. You decide on burgers, then ice cream to soothe your intense case of cottonmouth. He watches you amusedly, having only been a little tipsy from drinking with the boys. 

“My place?” he asks, pulling out of the drive thru. You shake your head no, mumbling a we can’t around the burger you had just taken a bite of. 

“Why not,” the question was more out of curiosity than anything else because of your quick refusal. 

“I gotta feed my kitty in the morning,” you state, like this is supposed to be obvious to him. 

His hand moves to rest on your thigh, long fingers splaying out as he gives a gentle squeeze. You look up at him to find a weird sincerity in his eyes. “Aw, you’re such a good mommy,” he teases, lopsided smirk finding residence back on his face. One hand let’s go of the foil wrapped around the base of your burger, making contact with his upper arm. A sharp smack resounds in the small space of the car, laughing at the dramatic gasp he lets out, pouting like a child. 

“That was not very nice, especially after I paid for your dinner.” He retracts his hand from your leg to grip the steering wheel, grumbling about the people in his life always abusing him under his breath. You find it endearing, always have, even though now you recognize that he’s faking it. He wanted your undivided attention and under different circumstances you would have refused but right now you were feeling like a tease. 

Dropping your half eaten burger into the takeout bag, you shift in your seat to stare at him, leaning over the center console with your elbows. If he noticed you he didn’t make it obvious, both hands still on the steering wheel, gaze fixed on the street ahead. You shift again so one leg is beneath you, giving you more leverage to almost press against him. You reach out a hand just ever so slightly placing it on his leg, right above his knee. Your fingers slowly dance along the denim, creeping upwards. You close the distance between your bodies, breasts pressing into his bicep. 

“Y’know, Tooru, you’re right. I should be thanking you,” you whisper in his ear. Your hand firmly squeezes the middle of his thigh, his grip tightening, the muscles tensing in his arms. 

Your hand meets the top of his thigh, the bulge of his hardening cock evident against your fingertips. “I can think of a few ways to do that,” you place a kiss right below his ear, earning a sharp inhale. 

He says your name through gritted teeth, pleading for you to stop? To continue? You couldn’t tell. You drag your lips across his jaw, breath fanning his skin, before you kiss the side of his mouth, smiling against him then pulling away completely, plopping back into the passenger seat. This time reaching for the milkshake waiting for you in the cup holder. 

His eyes narrow at you, rolling his shoulders back to relax them down as you look at him through your lashes, plush lips wrapped around the end of your straw, feigning innocence. 

You reach your apartment, hands full with the food you had ordered, fumbling with the keys to unlock the door. They’re snatched from your hands abruptly, confused for a second as to why your hand was now empty.

“Goddamnit why do you have so much shit on here?” Your key ring was full of little trinkets you’ve gathered over the years, forcing him to sift through them before landing on your apartment key, finally unlocking the door for you. You step inside, toeing off your shoes before heading to the kitchen to put your food down. Oikawa follows already recognizing the layout of your apartment. You place your shake into the fridge and close the door when you're suddenly pressed against it, palms flattening against the cool surface. 

“Did you really think you could tease me and get away with it?” His arms cage you in, your breath fogging against the metal of the fridge. 

“No,” you’re breathless, honest when you add on, “but I didn’t want to.” You push back against him, moving him just enough to turn in his embrace. You grab the collars of his button-up bringing his face to your own to slot your lips together once again. His hands move to grip your hips pressing your back to the chilled surface sending a shiver up your spine. His lips are soft and plump while moving on yours. Tongue swiping across your bottom lip. You open your mouth in response waiting for him to enter, but he leisurely drags his lower lip between yours. You attempt to close around it but he pulls away. You whine in protest, craving his lips on yours again. His hands move up to hold your waist as he presses his forehead to yours. 

“You really were the hottest girl out there,” he kisses you again. “Enticing,” he says against your lips. “Sexy, actually,” he pulls away again. 

This time you don’t chase after his lips, looking down to examine the outfit you threw on this morning. The flared hem of your jeans hiding the majority of your feet, white peasant top resting just above the button of your pants, puffy sleeve draped off your shoulder. The mint green cardigan hanging off your wrists at this point. 

You scoff, “Sexier than the girls in their cute mini dresses.” You meant for it to be light hearted but a twinge of jealousy snuck into your tone. 

He hums in confirmation. “Exactly, because you have something all of those girls don’t.” His head dips down to kiss your neck, soft pecks trailing down to meet the juncture between your neck and shoulder before he bites down. You gasp sharply, head falling back to rest against the door. 

“And w-what’s that,” your grip on the fabric tightens, wrinkling between your fingers, when his tongue laves over the sensitive spot to soothe the bite mark. His teeth drag against your earlobe before responding, “My attention.” 

At that, he crashes your lips together, passion and desire blending together in the most intimate concoction. His hands scoop you up kneading the tender flesh of your ass between his hands and you wrap your legs around his slender waist. The support of the fridge no longer needed as he begins walking towards your bedroom. Lips never disconnecting from the messy kiss, your hands carding through silky brown hair before fisting it in your hands, tugging earnestly. He groans into your mouth at the action, feet faltering subtly, one hand letting you go to stabilize against the wall. Your head falls onto his shoulder, laughing into his neck at his clumsiness. 

He pushes open the door to your bedroom, stepping over random items littered across your floor. His grip loosening, tossing you onto your mattress, body bouncing upon impact. The force makes you laugh again before he grabs your calves and pulls you down to the edge of the mattress, ankles locking around his hips. 

His body leans over you, one hand resting against the side of your leg, the other planted next to your face. He closes the gap between your lips, grinding down against your core. The friction of your jeans and the outline of his cock leaving you craving more. Heat rushing straight to your center as you wrap your arms around his neck, angling your hips upwards to meet each of his thrusts. 

The hand on your thigh moves to pop open the button of your pants, sliding the zipper down easily. He lifts one knee onto the edge of the bed, mattress dipping under the additional weight. He moves to kiss down your neck, sucking and biting until he reaches your collarbone. Both of his hands grab at the top of your jeans, preparing to tear them off. 

“Tooru,” you mewl, body heating up with anticipation, missing the weight of his body on yours. 

“Yes, baby,” he responds against your chest, mouth sucking harshly onto the top of your breasts, surely trying to leave a mark. The action makes you squirm, his grip on your pants tightening. 

“Stop being such a tease.” You know it’s in vain, he’s only ever lived to tease you in every way possible why would now be any different. You grasp the back of his hair to bring his face back to yours, smashing your lips to his, reveling in the way he opens up for you. Tongue slipping into his mouth to dance with his. You push the heels of your feet into the small of his back so that he falls on top of you. He grunts at your action, taken by surprise at your forwardness.

His knuckles turning white as his attempts to remain in control of himself start to waver. He forces himself to push off of you, straightening his back to stare down at your flushed form. You feel hot everywhere, eyes brimming with need, begging to be touched, hair fanned out behind you as one of your hands falls onto your chest, pressing down to feel your racing heart. 

In turn, Oikawa looks just as debauched as you, hair sticking up in various directions from your constant tugging. Lips swollen and red, glistening with your combined spit. 

Before you can say anything, the grip he’s had on your pants rushes to tear them off. More skin than he’s ever seen from you revealing itself to him. In his hurry to take them off, your underwear went with them, legs falling back to his waist, bare cunt now exposed to his greedy eyes. 

“Oh, fuck,” he’s blushing now, senses malfunctioning as his dick grows impossibly harder. Transfixed with the sight he moves one hand to slip his fingertips between your folds. A moan escapes both of your lips, harmonizing in the air between you. 

“Shit, you’re so wet, y/n.” His fingers continue to run up and down your slit spreading the slick everywhere. His fingertips find your clit, massaging firm circles into the swollen bud. You grip the comforter beneath you in response, breath hitching in your throat, eyes screwing shut as a needy whimper of his name falls from your lips. 

He languidly moves down to toy with your entrance, tauntingly pushing the tips of his fingers in and pulling them out. This goes on for what feels like forever, the pressure inconsistent and you open your mouth to complain for him to get on with it already. Lifting to rest on your elbows and shooting him an irritated stare, before he plunges both his middle and forefinger into your dripping heat. The unexpected pleasure shooting through you, pooling into the bottom of your abdomen. 

“Holy shit,” you pant, hand moving to wrap around his wrist. His movements are measured and intentional, looking for that sensitive spongy tissue inside, pushing his fingers in and out, changing angles slightly waiting for the perfect reaction. 

He finds it soon enough when your fingers tighten around his wrist, back arching, salacious moan ripping passed your vocal chords. Suddenly embarrassed your hand races to cover your mouth as he speeds up his movements. 

“Nuh uh, honey, don’t go quiet on me now,” his mischievous smile pinning you to the bed, “not when it was this easy to find your sweet spot,” each word punctuated by the rapid pumping of his fingers rubbing it perfectly each time. Your gaze is glossy, cheeks burning from the effort of keeping quiet. Oikawa notices your struggle and decides to move the hand clutching your thigh to thumb at your clit. The pressure within you only gets stronger. You know you’re about to come. He knows you're about to come, your walls clenching down on his fingers making it increasingly difficult to continue his assault. 

“C’mon baby, I know you can come for me. You take my fingers so well. Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” your hand flies to meet his other wrist trying to lock it in place, knees trying to force themselves closed but his elbows press down on them to remain open. 

“T-tooru, shit, uh, I’m gonna-“ your eyes screw shut preparing for your orgasm to hit, you can taste the ecstasy on your tongue. God you’re so close.

Then everything stops. You’re suddenly incredibly empty, clit buzzing from the sudden loss of contact. Your eyes spring open, chest heaving as you look at him. The bastard is wearing a sleazy grin that would put Zeus to shame. Electricity coursing through his irises, waltzing dangerously with the thundering of your heartbeat.

“What the fuck, Tooru?” You can’t bring yourself to yell at him, out of breath and reeling from the loss of your orgasm. He doesn’t break eye contact as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them in, groaning dramatically at his first taste of you. He drags them out of his mouth with a disgusting pop, making you actively wince at the sound, while your cunt clenches around nothing. Already missing the feel of them ramming into you. 

He steps out from between your legs, eyes raking up your half naked body before landing on your face. He reaches down to grab the hem of his flowy button up, easily pulling it over his head. You rise up to support yourself on the palms of your hands, salivating at the sight of his chiseled abdomen. All muscle and taut skin wrapping snugly around his torso. You want to lick him, but before you can voice this out loud, he interrupts your thoughts.

“Take those off for me,” he points to your shirt and cardigan as he moves to unbutton his pants. You do as he says and discard the knitted fabric from your arms and toss it onto the floor. Your shirt is next to go, quickly ridding yourself of the suffocating item, reaching behind you to effortlessly unclasp your bra. Oikawa gives you an appreciative once over, kicking his jeans off from around his ankles. You stare as he begins to drag the cotton of his boxer briefs past his pelvis, unabashedly admiring his lean body. His cock finally springs free, his erection looking nearly painful as your mouth begins to water. His head is a startling red, drops of precum crying from the tip. A singular vein angrily runs across the underside, pulsing rhythmically. 

“Don’t look so surprised, y/n,” there’s a hint of insecurity, of doubt surfacing in his tone when you look up to meet his eyes. He raises one arm to rub at the back of neck, sheepishly, all hints of his domineering personality subdued now that you are both completely naked, vulnerable to each other. You reach to him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards you. You scoot up the bed as he follows, long frame crawling up to meet you at your headboard.

“You’re bigger than I expected,” you reply, hunger lacing your tone. “But I need you to fuck me,” you whisper on a breath, “please.” Your eyes are pleading into his, body aching to be touched again, brain begging to be stuffed full. At your soft pleas, a switch is flipped. The cocky, egocentric son of a bitch rears his head, pushing you to lay flat on your back as he spreads you open for him again. Hands gripping the outside of your thighs to keep you still as he places his cock directly over your heat, slipping it between your folds until he’s covered in your slick. His tip catching irresistibly beneath the hood of your clit, forcing moans to erupt from your chest, cunt dripping with the stimulation. You lose yourself in the gentle glide of his cock, coil rewinding itself. 

“Think you’re ready for me now?” The question is genuine, layered with uncertainty as he waits for your consent. “Yes, Tooru. Yes, please,” you know you're shamelessly begging for it, you know he won’t ever let you forget about the time you were pleading for his cock, for him to fuck you, but you were in too deep now. Only this carnal satisfaction will be able to burn out the fire he lit when he first kissed you. 

“Fuck, baby, you beg for me so well,” the praise washes over you in tidal waves, rolling off of his tongue without a second thought as he begins to push into you. He moves slowly, a pleasurable burn starting to make itself known. He continues to rock into you, shallow thrusts keeping you grounded. “God, you’re tight,” he grunts out through clenched teeth, pulling out until just the tip is past your entrance and then driving forward, sheathing himself completely. 

The force knocks the air from your lungs, eyes rolling back, bottom lip caught between your teeth. You feel like you’re splitting in half, wiggling your hips to adjust to his length, while he holds in a breath trying to keep from thrusting into you. You catch your breath, reaching forward to grab his arms so that he’s folded over you. “Move,” you whine, ready for him to just start moving inside you before you combust. He places a hand by your head, fisting the pillow, while the other grasps the apex of your thigh. He grinds his hips against yours, cock thrusting cleanly against your walls. Each exhale of his breath nestles against your neck as he mouths the area. The sensual roll of his hips filling you flawless, but you need more. 

“More, I n-need more, Tooru,” the words whimper into his ear. He pushes himself up, so that you’re face to face and he chuckles deeply, the dark tenor of the sound sends a chill through you. “I don’t think you can handle more,” he’s mocking you. He wants you to beg again. He wants to hear your pretty voice broken with want, urging him to fuck you like only he can. So you do. A chorus of please’s and I can, I promise tumble forward, as he watches you struggle against his cock, angling your hips upwards, searching in earnest for the delicious drag of him within you. 

Whatever you do or say works because Oikawa shifts to sit upright, pulling you by your hips so that you’re partially rested against his thighs as he drills into you with renewed vigor. His pelvis slams against the back of your thighs, balls slapping scandalously against your ass. You can no longer control the noises flying from your mouth, flooding the small room as you beg him not to stop, to keep going, because you're close. The coil that was once rewinding itself at an unhurried pace was now ready to snap. Your eyes were brimming with fresh tears ready to spill over, the sheer force of Oikawa’s thrusts enough to nearly make you come, but he brings his fingers to your clit once again, already sensitive from previously being toyed with, a sob rips through you. He sloppily rubs hard circles into your bud while simultaneously plunging into you deeper than before. 

“Cum for me, baby, please. I don’t know how much longer I’ll last. I need you to cum,” this time he’s the one begging you, pitiful groans falling from his lips. You look up at his face, eyebrows scrunched together, eyes wrinkled shut, the look of pure concentration framing his face. “Then cum, Tooru. Fuck, I want you to fill me up, please.”

At your request, he begins pounding into you harder than before, fingers unwavering on your clit, rushing from side to side. He pulls you close to him, changing the angle so that he’s now fucking upwards, jamming into your cervix. There’s a flash of pain, a shattered gasp before your vision whites out. Your orgasm crashing over you, euphoria lacing through your veins, altering your previous high completely. A moan of your name and the familiar warmth of his seed pouring into you brings you back to reality. 

You opened your eyes for the hundredth time that night, this time finding Oikawa with his head thrown back swallowing gulps of air as his chest rises up and down with exhaustion. Sweat was trickling down his forehead flowing down his cheeks, making it look like he was crying. His grip on you loosens as he peers at you from between his barely open eyelids. A lazy smile graces his features as he takes in your similar state. 

“I don’t know why we didn’t do that sooner.”


End file.
